Three Children
by CacophonicDW
Summary: Cera's Parents make a difficult choice. One-shot.


"Well, that accomplished nothing."

A sturdy, mature female threehorn smiled at her mate's grumbled complaint. They were a pair among many, trudging through the dust of a barren landscape, greyed by stress and lack rather than age. Four healthy children gallavanted close behind them- too rare a sight those days. The young ones kept the steady pace easily, playing and laughing among themselves.

"Oh, I wouldn't say _nothing,_ Topsy. We have some direction now, at least." She had adopted her habitual tone of jovial superiority- a trait that Topps mostly found maddening. He had grumbled before times had gotten bad, and she firmly believed that he would go on grumbling long after they were both piles of old bones.

"Bah! One direction's as good as another. No food anywhere, and sharpteeth behind every boulder. And Atra, _don't call me Topsy!_ " Everyone knew that he hated the childhood nickname, and few dared to call him by it to his face any longer aside from his mate and a few of her friends.

"Whatever you say... Topsy."

Topps snorted- she was always teasing him. Maddening... but endearing, none the less.

They walked in silence for some time. The sky was growing dark, the harsh oranges of the dead land around them slowly fading into the muted greys of twilight. Atra preferred this time of day; it was easier on the eyes, and easier to forget where they were. Sometimes, when there was just enough light left to keep to the path, she could almost see their home as it once was- dense forests with green food as far as the eye could see, the streams and lakes teeming with shining swimmers that would jump into the air and glisten with the light of the bright circle. By day, it was hard to believe that such a world had ever existed. It was, she knew, a world her children would never see.

"Topps?" She said, suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"Do you... think the herd is making the right decision?"

"Well, the lands we chose were always the greenest in the past. Who's to say there isn't a little green still left at the bottom of the world? Too bad we have to walk the whole way first." She grinned at his rare, dry humor, then subsided into melancholy.

"Still... There are a lot of rumors coming from other herds. If the Great Valley really does exist-"

"Oh, stop that right now! If the other herds want to starve to death chasing a hatchling's story, then it serves them right- more food for us! Luckily, threehorns are born with a bit more sense than that. At least, most of us are." He shot her a sideways glance, and instantly regretted the jab at seeing the flash of despair that passed over her face.

"We'll... we'll find some place nice." He gruffly attempted to console her. "Somehwere that the children will like. I promise." Her empty smile hung awkwardly between them, and she turned to mind the children as the elders called a halt for the night.

-

Later on, between the sleeping forms of Topps and Atra, one of the hatchlings was stirring. The young threehorn raised her head from sleep and blinked her eyes in muddled confusion. Something must have woken her, but she was at a loss as to what.

 _CROAK_

She scrambled to her feet and was about to call for her mother, when she spotted the source of the noise: a particularly fat hopper, perched smugly at the edge of their nesting site.

CRRRROAK

Cera, as she was called, took a moment to fully waken. She looked over the sleeping forms of her small family, and noted the slight lightening of the sky that foretold the bright circle's arrival. It was unusual for either of her parents to sleep past this first light, but she didn't question it. As far as Cera was concerned, if her mom wanted to sleep in instead of her usual habit of waking at daybreak, then that was fine with her. She'd had precious little time to explore their new nesting site, and for a brave, fierce threehorn like her, that just wasn't acceptable. And now, by luck, the perfect opportunity had opened up.

CRO-ROOOOAK 

With hardly a thought the young one bounded forward, intent on smooshing the fat hopper where it lay. The crafty green menace was not about to wait for this; trading leaps and dodges, the two were soon long out of sight, with a broad yawn from one of the other hatchlings the only hint at the night's disruption.

"CERAAAAA!"

Topps raised his head groggily, his blurred eyes adjusting to the sight of his mate running rampant, and his four daughters stirring beside him.

His... three daughters.

"Cera!" His sudden alertness was punctured by the distant roar of something very large, and quite probably very hungry. "CERA!" Topps was on his feet, moving toward his mate. "Atra, watch the children, I'll-" Topps lurched to his knees as a force larger than he could comprehend shook him to his bones, and a massive crack split the air. The thick rumbling that followed, punctuated by the ringing in his ears, culminated in the stomping of many feet as the herd began to panic.

"EARTHSHAAAAAKE!" Topps could not tell if the bellow came from one voice or many, and it was soon drowned out as the rumbling became a roar, and the ground beneath them began to buck and heave. He felt his mate stumble into him and set his stance to brace her, vaguely aware of their daughters crowding their feet. The massive threehorn willed all of his strength into holding his stance, knowing that a slip, a misstep, a fall, could prove fatal. In a bare minute that seemed to stretch for an eternity, the shaking subsided. Topps took in deep, desperate breaths, his shaking legs almost making up for the stillness of the earth. He could feel his mate's sides heave with her breathing, and soft cries sounded below him, filling his heart with ease. He chanced a downward glance at his daughters- all three shaken, but alive.

Three... but not all.

His heart sank again, and he heaved a sigh. A quick glance around did little to comfort him. A few threehorns mulled around the broken landscape, grouping up with one another in a daze, but the herd had been decimated. With a glimmer of hope he caught sight of his mate's sister- it was a small piece of fortune that the children would not have to lose an aunt.

As they've already lost a sister.

The admission tore at him, and he immediately rejected it.

"Tops... we should... go to the others." Atra shifted to regain her own footing. Her breathing was heavy, and there was a dead look of resignation in her eyes, uncharacteristic and frightening. Tops snorted.

"Of course! But, w-what about-"

Daddy...

The cry was soft, nearly stolen by the wind. Topps and Atra looked at one another in complete shock, and the hatchlings glanced around in confusion.

"Daddy!" Louder, and the direction was clear.

"Cera..." Topps took a few cautious steps forward, then barelled toward the call heedlessly. His small family trailed behind him more slowly, huddled close to one another in apprehension, and the remnants of shock.

"Daddy! Where are you?!"

"CERA!" A massive precipice opened before him and Topps pulled up short, dust and small stones careening into the depths.

"Daddy!"

"Cera!" He could see his small daughter on the far side, and the pure relief filled him with warmth. He could hear Atra behind him, sending the other children off to their aunt. This struck him as a little odd, but the thought was lost in his joy. He turned to call her over.

"Dear, look! Cera-" His mate's eyes were full of pain, and they pushed against him like a wall. "Cera's... alive." As he turned back toward Cera, he took in the full breadth of the precipice for the first time. It stretched as far as he could see in either direction, with sheer walls along both sides. If they stopped here to try to save their daughter, they would all die. He knew now what Atra had already figured out: Cera was right in front of them, but she may as well have been on the other side of the great wastes. Atra pushed past him to stand by the edge.

"Cera... I love you, dear." Her voice sounded distant and broken as she called across to her daughter.

"Momma! I'll find a way up! I know I can!" Cera was close to tears, and her voice was tight with fear.

"Of course you will..." Atra whispered. In a raw moment, the pain flashed out of her eyes, replaced by a look of violent determination. "Cera! When you make it over, find the Great Valley! Whatever you do, don't stop searching! We'll meet you there! I... I promise!" Atra's voice carried as strongly as ever, but it was tinged with a desperation that turned Topps' heart to ice. Seeing Cera's face light up at her words only wounded him further.

"Y...yeah. Yeah! Like in the stories! I bet I'll even get there before you- I'll find it before anybody!" As she reached the end of her statement she was throwing words back behind her, already racing toward the valley that she knew couldn't be far off.

"You better hurry, Mom! I'm going to find it first!"

The two stood in silence, watching. She seemed terribly far away already, and terribly small. Topps turned his head, looking to meet his mate's gaze- she turned away from him quickly.

"Atra..." His voice was uncharacteristically soft, giving way to a vulnerability and confusion that he wasn't used to feeling. "Atra, those are just stories. The Great Valley doesn't exist. Why would you-"

"Don't you think I know that!" Atra turned on him suddenly, slamming her front feet defiantly to the ground, forcing Topps back a step. He regained himself quickly, meeting her glare with his own.

"Now hold on, I only wanted-" Atra snorted loudly and turned heel, leaving her mate to rejoin what little was left of their herd. As she walked, she hunched her shoulders against the sobs she knew she could not utter, and the tears that flowed unseen from her eyes.

"Bah!" Topps huffed and tossed his head in frustration, still failing to understand his mate's motives. His mood softened as his eyes strayed automatically back to his daughter's retreating form. Later, down a dark and terrible road, his mate's promise would ring in his heart once again. But, for now, he stood in silence, believing that his beautiful Cera was lost to him forever.


End file.
